Time Lore

A blank sky screams

A boy runs to it

His feet plod off against ice-ground

It is screaming too

Now the screaming has dimmed

But there is no sun to dim

Just the sky and the ice

The boy wont stop running until he reaches the end.

There is no end.

Will you plod on the same ground as before, boy?

Or will you plod under a different sky?

The boy is Ibornos.

The boy is time.


Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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